Ill at ease (a true story)

The empty gather
in a corner of the room
congregating in silence
under the stars and the moon

Sometimes they speak in tongues
so opaque and unclear
to break the monotony of the stability
I try to hold so dear

Huddled together
uniform in black suits
they make decisions so grave
without chance for rebuke

I often try to listen
to their words unfamiliar
edging in close to catch a sound
but they disappear all together

Varying in size
in strength with bulging eyes
heavy and precise
with intentions firmly disguised

Forever holding court
my life their sport
watching me when I sleep
mimicking the sound of my snore

I am sometimes at peace
after years of unease
some say they are only figments
others say they’re disease

I entertain and appease
these figures to no end
no matter how close I get
I’m never sure be a true friend

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